


Damaged

by eiluned



Series: In Repair [3]
Category: X-Men (Ultimateverse)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-03
Updated: 2011-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 04:41:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiluned/pseuds/eiluned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can you regain someone's trust after you've betrayed them?  Third story in the In Repair series (sequel to On Guilt, Lust, and Repressing Emotions).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged

**Author's Note:**

> Date finished: 26 May 2001. Ultimate X-Men alternate universe.

"Good morning, sunshine."

Jean grinned faintly at the dirty look she received from Storm. The other girl plopped down in the chair beside Piotr and sullenly watched Jean scramble eggs. "How the hell can you be so chipper when you're getting so little sleep?" Ororo asked, derision evident in her tone.

Jean dished some eggs onto Bobby's plate. "Is there a problem, Storm?" she asked calmly.

Bobby cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Jean could sense Piotr wondering what the hell was going on.

Storm crossed her arms over her chest. "No, not really. Maybe I just think you should spend more time working with the team and less time screwing Wolverine."

Piotr's fork hit his plate with a clatter, the sound deafening in the suddenly-silent kitchen. Jean looked at Bobby, whose eyes had gotten wide, and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"Ororo, that's not any of our--" Piotr began, but Jean cut him off.

"If I remember correctly, I've spent nearly all of my waking time taking care of Henry, helping the professor and trying to work out a plan to get the Blackbird back. Frankly, what I do in private is none of your goddamn business. I don't bring up your personal matters in front of the rest of the team, and I'd appreciate it if you would give me the same courtesy," Jean said coolly.

Ororo looked surprised; Jean could tell that she hadn't been expecting an answer like that. Jean wouldn't rise to the bait, though. She was the team leader now, and she wasn't about to argue about her sex life in front of her teammates.

"I'm going to go check on Hank," she said, passing the spatula to Bobby. "I'll be in the Danger Room later if anyone needs me."

* * *

The halls slowly blurred, but Jean didn't stop walking until she was in the Medlab. She sat down in one of the chairs, wiping her eyes angrily. "What the hell is wrong with me?" she asked aloud.

Hank, of course, didn't answer. He was still unconscious, even though the Professor was saying that he should wake up any day now. Jean leaned forward and took one of his huge hands in hers. "Come on, big guy. Wake up," she said quietly.

Hank's chest rose and fell steadily, but he didn't react. "C'mon, Hank. We need you back," she whispered. "I miss talking to you, and I really need someone to talk to right now."

She checked his pulse, just to have something to do. "I'm just going to talk to you, Hank, okay? I need to get some things out, you know? Talk myself through it," she laughed softly. "Hope you don't mind.

"So much has happened since Croatia. Cripes, it's only been a week, but it's like everything's been turned on its head. First, you got hurt, and that really scared the hell out of us. Professor Xavier really pulled out all the stops to save your life. I know you'll wake up when you're ready, though. But..." she paused, sighing heavily, "Scott left. He took the 'bird - you're probably going to be pissed about that when you wake up. I know that was one of your favorite toys. We think... we think he joined up with Magneto."

She sighed again. "I still can't believe it. The professor is blaming himself, though he would never tell anyone else that, except maybe me. He thinks that he's using us, and that Scott got fed up with it. I don't know what to think. I'm just hurt, and I feel guilty. Y'see, Logan and I... Wolverine, I mean. That's his name, Logan. We've been... we're..."

Jean laughed humorlessly at herself. "Christ. Logan and I are lovers. I can't shake this horrible feeling that I'm part of the reason why Scott left. Like I betrayed him or something, which is stupid. We never dated or anything. We were always just friends, even if he did want more. I never thought about him that way. But what if it's my fault?

"The professor says that it's not my fault, and that I shouldn't worry about it, but hey... if there's something to worry about, I'll worry.

"Logan... I don't know what to think about him. I don't even like him, and I don't trust him. But when he touches me, Hank, or even looks at me, I can feel something welling up inside of me... And when I look into his eyes, I can see this vulnerability in him. Underneath all that attitude and toughness, there's so much pain and fear. God, it hurts me to think about it.

"I want to make that pain go away. I want to take care of him, Hank. I keep telling myself that I don't like him, that what I'm feeling is just lust, but when I woke up this morning... I looked at him, sleeping there in my bed, and my heart just broke.

"I think I'm falling in love with him, Hank, and that scares the hell out of me.

"Everyone I've ever loved has abandoned me. My family is afraid of me. My old friends hate me now because I'm a mutant. Even Scott's gone. I'm afraid that I'll let myself fall in love with Logan, and he'll leave me.

"I don't have anyone to talk to about it, really. Ororo keeps giving me this disapproving look, and this morning, she actually insulted me in front of the others. How am I supposed to deal with that? How can I lead the X-Men when one of my own teammates thinks I'm some kind of whore? God, Hank, I don't know what to do."

Jean buried her face in her hands and cried, wishing desperately that Hank was awake to hug her.

* * *

Logan pressed himself against the wall outside of the infirmary, his mind racing. He had been in the weight room when he'd heard Jean in one of the corridors. The salty scent of tears clung to her. Worried, he followed.

The things he'd heard her say... He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He was in equal parts amazed and terrified at how she felt, and furious at the people who had hurt her.

Before he could even think rationally, he was in the lab, wanting nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her until she forgot everything else in the world.

Jean bolted up out of her chair as if it had shocked her. "Omigod, Logan..." she stammered, her fair skin reddening. "How... how much of that did you hear?"

Instead of answering, he kissed her, wrapping his arms around her slim body, brushing the tears from her cheeks, whispering her name against her lips. She stiffened for a second, then slowly melted against him, her body molding to his. He groaned when her hips slid liquidly against his. He pulled away from her mouth long enough to mutter, "Bed," and then went back to kissing her hungrily.

The rushed trip up to her room was a blur, and Jean couldn't really remember how they had gotten there. Logan kicked the door shut behind himself, yanking his shirt over his head. Jean's hands were immediately on him, stroking his warm skin. He sighed and leaned against the door.

She started at his neck and worked her way down, licking at his pulse points, sucking his nipples, teasing his navel with the tip of her tongue. Her nimble fingers had undone his belt and unzipped his pants before he'd even realized it. He shifted to let her slide the jeans down his legs, then moaned when her tongue slid up the inside of his thigh. He was so hard that he ached.

Jean sat back for a second, pulling off her shirt and bra, then leaned against him, pressing her breasts against his thighs. His cock was straining away from his body urgently. The knowledge that she did this to him made her flush with heat. He wanted her badly.

She licked from the underside of his balls up to the head of his erection, then took him into her mouth, suckling lightly. He jerked, but held himself back, letting her move at her own pace.

Her breasts rubbed against him with every stroke, the hair on his thighs teasing her nipples erect. She moaned softly, and the vibration of it against his cock made him gasp. "I want you," he whispered, feathering his fingers through her short hair.

He pulled her to her feet, kissing her and sliding her pants over her hips. He could taste himself in her mouth, and it nearly made him lose his mind. He wanted to mark her, make her his and his alone. He wanted to rub against her, push himself into her, come inside of her.

Jean could sense the sudden possessiveness of his thoughts, and it made her heart pound. She couldn't help thinking that it was strange that she, fiercely independent Jean, wanted a man to dominate her so badly, but she wanted to take him just as desperately. She wanted to sink her teeth into his neck and claim him for her own.

He steered her to the bed and laid her on her back, running his hands and mouth over her skin. He worshipped every inch of her body, teasing her until she was gasping his name. She bucked hard against his mouth, whimpering with every flick of his tongue against her swollen clit. When she came, he pushed two fingers inside of her and felt her muscles contract in waves.

Panting, Jean pulled Logan up on top of her, taking his throbbing cock in her hand and guiding it to her opening. He looked at her questioningly. "What about..." he asked, nodding at her nightstand.

"S'okay," she panted. "I'm on the Pill. I want you inside of me."

Her last words nearly drove him out of his mind. He let her fit the head of his penis against her sex, then pushed slowly inside of her. God, she was so hot and wet... he thought the top of his head would come off.

Jean lay perfectly still, closed her eyes and just **felt**. Sex with Logan was good with a condom, but without one, it was incredible. His skin was hotter, smoother, and she could feel his pulse pounding in his cock. She opened her eyes and looked up at him. He was holding himself over her, already dark eyes dilated to black and heavy-lidded, sliding into her inch by aching inch. Pushing her elbows against the bed, she raised her hips just as slowly. Logan's eyes slipped shut, and he hissed through his teeth. Jean kept moving until her body was pressed snugly against his groin.

Logan moaned like a tortured man and collapsed onto her, pressing her into the mattress. Jean fought to control her breathing; she felt like she was going to explode. She had never imagined that anything could feel this good, feel this right. He was so big; he stretched her to the point where pleasure blurred with pain.

She slid her legs around his hips and ran her hands down his back, gripping his ass and encouraging him to move. Instead of thrusting, he ground his hips deliberately against her, rubbing her clit. A few more circles of his hips, and she was gasping, about to come again. He kissed her hard, thrusting into her without really pulling out, and teased her nipple with the hand that wasn't supporting his weight.

The feel of his hot, bare cock moving inside of her set her off. Her muscles seized up, fingers gripping his ass with painful force, and she wailed his name loudly enough to wake the dead. Her sex was gripping him so tightly that it made him dizzy. He watched her come, clamping down on his own rapidly approaching orgasm, watched her writhe underneath him, bucking against him, rubbing her breasts desperately against his chest.

"Oh, god, Logan, yes..." she moaned, working herself on his cock. "Come for me... I want you to come..."

Suddenly desperate, he began thrusting hard, pounding into her fiercely. Jean watched him in something like a daze. His black hair had fallen out of its loose ponytail and was hanging wildly around his face, brushing her forehead and cheeks when he leaned down to plunder her mouth. As he came closer to orgasm, his eyes slipped shut, his face twisting into an expression of intense concentration.

She squeezed him tightly inside of her, and he froze, swelling inside her pussy. Jean committed every sensation to memory: the heavy throb of his cock, the jerking, graceless thrusts of his hips, the sudden flood of warm wetness inside of her, the way his face contorted with ecstasy, his white teeth bared in a snarl of immeasurable pleasure.

"God, Jeannie," he gasped.

He pushed hard into her, and she felt the world dissolve around her.

* * *

An hour and a half later, they had showered, dressed in their uniforms and joined the others in one of the sitting rooms. Jean studiously ignored the looks she was getting from Storm, and walked over to where Logan was leaning against a table.

"How's Hank?" Bobby asked quietly from an armchair.

"He's doing better," Jean replied carefully. "The professor thinks he'll be awake in the next couple of days."

She could sense Bobby's relief at her words, and she only hoped that Professor Xavier was right. Logan was watching her, and she gave him a slight smile, leaning around him to reach for a glass of water.

'I can't kill him now.'

The words echoed in Jean's mind as if she had thought them herself. She froze, her fingertips brushing the glass.

"What?" she asked, slowly pulling back.

Logan looked confused for a split second, then horror crossed his face when he realized that she'd heard his thoughts. "Jean, I..." he stammered.

Jean grabbed him suddenly by the hair at the back of his head, digging her fingertips into his temple. He jerked convulsively when she entered his mind, crying out in pain.

"Professor! Help!" Bobby shouted, and Ororo and Piotr bolted off of the couch.

"What do we do?" Colossus asked helplessly; Wolverine was frozen in place, an expression of excruciating pain on his face.

"Do nothing!"

Everyone but Jean and Logan jumped at the Professor's barked order. He wheeled quickly into the room and closed his eyes, putting his fingertips to his temples.

Nothing happened for a very long moment, by the end of which Bobby was hopping nervously from foot to foot and Ororo was crying. Suddenly, Wolverine let out a agonized moan and crumpled to the floor. Jean reeled backward with a cry, and Professor Xavier simply sat and stared at them.

"Jean, what was that all about?" he asked, deadly calm.

Jean started to sob in revulsion. "He's here to kill you, Professor. Magneto sent him."

"What?!" Piotr exclaimed, the faces of the others echoing the same shock.

"Oh, my god..." Storm whispered, her hand over her mouth.

The professor didn't look the least bit surprised. "Jean--" he began.

"No! He was using me to break up the team. Divide and conquer. He knew Scott was watching in the garden, and he knew that he would leave!" she interrupted furiously, staring daggers at Logan. "You son of a bitch, you **used** me! None of it was real! You made me into your little whore so you could kill the professor!"

Wolverine was shaking his head helplessly. "No, that's not true," he mumbled.

"Liar!" Jean shouted. "I can see it plain as day in your head! Magneto sent you to kill Professor Xavier! You were to infiltrate the team and assassinate him."

"I couldn't..." Logan protested. "I was supposed to, but I couldn't do it!"

Jean collapsed to the floor. "You used me... you lied to me," she whispered, her tone no less angry, but filled with hopelessness. "I cared about you, and you were just using me."

Storm buried her face in Piotr's shoulder.

"No, Jeannie, I wasn't lying..."

The sound of that nickname sent a jolt of emotion through Jean. The last time she heard that name on his lips was when he was coming inside of her. Her stomach turned.

Logan tried to move closer to her.

"Stay away from me!"

Jean threw her hands out, and with a flash of green, Wolverine flew backward to hit the wall hard, shattering the table. His claws flashed out on instinct, and the room went very silent.

His face contorted with pain when he realized what he had done. His claws retracted, and he staggered to his feet, leaving the room without another word.

* * *

Ororo found Jean half an hour later in the infirmary bathroom.

Jean was sitting against the wall beside a toilet, looking gaunt, her bright hair in sharp contrast to her overly pallid skin.

"How are you doing?" Storm asked quietly.

Jean didn't look up from the floor. "Well," she answered hoarsely, "considering I just spent the last twenty minutes puking my guts up, I think it's encouraging that I'm upright."

Storm laughed softly. "You sound like Henry," she said.

Jean smiled faintly. "I came down here because I thought that if I died or something, you wouldn't have to carry me far."

The smile faded and tears began running down her cheeks. Ororo felt like the biggest bitch in the world. "Jean, I'm sorry," she said, sliding down to sit beside the other girl.

"For what?"

Ororo took a deep breath. "For the way I've been acting. I had no right, and I'm really sorry."

Jean looked at her for a second, her eyes taking on their usual, searching quality. "It's all right," she replied, her eyes fading back into listlessness.

"Really? I mean... I've been horrible..."

"Ororo, it's all right. I forgive you."

It was Storm's turn to stare. "Jean, you realize that you're one of the best people I know? Even after all the shit you've been through, you aren't bitter. Most people would just have told me to go to hell."

Jean snorted. "I feel bitter right now. I feel like I have ashes in my mouth. Actually, I feel like ashes. I'm completely burnt out."

"You're tough, girl. You'll rise again."

"Right now, I just feel like wallowing in self-pity."

Ororo smiled. "Well, how 'bout we head upstairs, grab a gallon of Vanilla Dreamery and wallow together?"

Jean tried to smile back, but couldn't make herself. "Maybe later. I'm just going to head up to my room. Will you have Professor Xavier look in on Henry?"

With that, she left the Medlab.

* * *

A Few Days Later...

* * *

Jean buried her face in her pillow and breathed in Wolverine's lingering scent. It made her chest ache. She had run out of tears the day before, and now just felt empty. She had never felt so hollow before, not even when her parents had kicked her out. She felt like a piece of her soul had been ripped out of her.

There was a soft knock on her door, and she opened it with her teke, wincing when it slammed into the wall. "Oops," she mumbled into the pillow.

She heard the squeak of a wheelchair and turned her head to look at the professor. "Here to bitch me out?" she asked.

He frowned at her. "Don't ever do anything like that again, Jean. You could have killed him, and yourself."

"I know," she said miserably.

"But that's not why I'm here. I knew why Wolverine was here before your little mind-link episode."

"What?" Jean asked, sitting up. "How?"

"Creative deduction, and I managed to catch a stray thought or two from the Savage Land. Give me a little credit, Jean."

Jean was horrified. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"As I said before, I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. He began doubting himself just after you returned from Croatia. You could sense the conflict in him, Jean. You just didn't know the reasons for it.

"You also sensed it when you linked with his mind."

Much to her surprise and shame, she began to cry again. "I did, but I was so angry... I felt so betrayed..."

"It blinded you. Sometimes your emotions can show you the truth, but most of the time, you must set them aside to see it."

"I fell in love with him," she said, pressing her face into the pillow again.

"And he fell in love with you."

Jean sighed heavily. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked.

"Find him and apologize."

Jean stared at him disbelievingly. "What do I have to apologize for?"

"For nearly ripping his mind apart. And for not believing him."

A wave of guilt washed over her. "I can't trust him now, Professor..."

"Apologize," he said, his tone much softer, "and don't make it any more difficult than that. Work things out afterward."

Jean closed her eyes and inhaled Logan's scent again. "Will you look for him with Cerebro?" she asked.

"Of course. I'll let you know when I've located him."

She listened to him close the door behind himself, and for the first time in days felt something like a glimmer of hope.

* * *

Seven Hours Later; Central Park

* * *

Jean scanned the area and picked up Logan's psi-print quickly. He was shielding heavily, but she found that she could still pick up his emotions easily. God, he was hurting so badly... it made her heart ache.

'Go,' she told herself, and headed for the stand of trees in which Logan was perched.

* * *

A very familiar scent caught Logan's attention, drawing him out of the blackness of his mood. He opened his eyes and leaned forward in surprise. Jean?

He sniffed the air, and her scent hit him again, making him dizzy with want. It also sent a knife of pain into his chest. What the hell was she doing here?

"Logan? I know you're up there. Please come down."

The sound of her voice just hurt him more. He was about to jump down out of the tree and ask what the hell she wanted, when a voice froze him in place.

"What's a pretty little girl like you going out here at night?"

Logan growled. "Mastermind."

Jean shrieked suddenly, and Logan leapt from the tree. He could hear a struggle, and her scream cut off abruptly. Suddenly, it didn't matter to him that she'd ripped his heart out and stomped on it. She was in danger, and he wasn't going to let her get hurt.

* * *

Wolverine trailed Mastermind's car through Manhattan, and watched as the man heaved an unconscious Jean over his shoulder and carried her inside a very classy brownstone. When the coast was clear, he crept around the house and found a vulnerable window.

'Amateurs,' he thought disdainfully as he slipped into the Brotherhood's New York headquarters.

The only sounds in the place came from the basement. He could hear two different people speaking: Mastermind and someone he didn't recognize. He crept silently through the dark house, plotting his escape route as he went.

The sound of a motor surprised him, and he dashed forward in time to see a small train car disappear down a tunnel.

He swore loudly and started running. Luckily, no one was watching the back of the train, so he was able to pull himself onto the car. A quick glance inside showed six heavily armed guards. Neither Mastermind nor Jean were in sight. He knew damned well that all of Magneto's vehicles were equipped with self-destruct mechanisms. Any sign of danger, and someone would trip the auto-destruct and jump ship. He wouldn't be able to get through six guards, move through the car and get Jean off of the train before it blew up.

He wrapped his arm around a ladder rung and waited.

* * *

The train slowed to a stop after about half an hour. Wolverine blended into the shadows against the back of the car and waited for things to settle down. They were in some kind of hangar; the stench of exhaust and fuel was overwhelming. He suspected that Mastermind was taking his prize back to the Savage Land.

Listening carefully, he glanced around the corner, and ducked back to his hiding place. There were too many guards milling around -- Mastermind was likely to kill Jean before Logan could get through all of them. His best chance was to sneak onto the plane.

'If I have to go to the Savage Land with them, I can at least get the Blackbird back,' he thought randomly, than blinked and wondered where that had come from.

He waited in the darkness until there was a suitable gap between guard patrols, then slipped into the jet's cargo hold.

* * *

The Savage Land

* * *

Jean hung limply, her arms bound behind her back and attached to a ring on the high ceiling. Her head was fuzzy... where was she?

She thought back, and remembered finding Logan in Central Park. She'd called out to him, and... someone else had been there, too. A man. He'd said something to her, and suddenly she was surrounded by a writhing mass of snakes.

There was nothing after that.

Craning her neck, she looked at as much of the room as she could. It was Spartan and grey. She assumed that she was going to be tortured, but there didn't seem to be any implements of pain in the room. She was either being held by a human-supremacy group, or by the Brotherhood. By the look of the room, she guessed the Brotherhood.

A door slid quietly open, and she turned her head in its direction. A goateed man walked in smoothly, following by a shorter, younger man with gory-looking tattoos all over his skin. Jean recognized the first man from the professor's intelligence photos.

"Mastermind," she said darkly.

"Well, you know my name, Miss Grey. That's nice," he said smugly. "I trust you liked my little snake illusion."

Jean shuddered involuntarily at the memory. Snakes were one of the only things on this world that she was truly afraid of. "Fuck off," she snapped.

Mastermind tutted. "Now, that language doesn't become a young lady such as yourself."

Jean stared at the floor, trying to focus enough to pick the lock on the shackles holding her wrists immobile.

"Now, Miss Grey, why don't you tell us where Charles Xavier's little safe house is?" Mastermind asked.

Jean shook her head slightly. "Didn't I just tell you to fuck off?" she sneered.

"I'm taking that as a no."

His polished shoes came into her view. "Well, I suppose we'll have to do this the hard way," he said. "My apologies for being rude; I didn't introduce my friend. Miss Grey, this is Cruor. He, like yourself and like me, is a mutant."

Jean spat on the floor in reply.

Mastermind chuckled. "My, my. Someone doesn't have any manners. I'd imagined that Xavier would have taught you better than that.

"I don't think you will like Cruor much. You see, his particular mutation allows him to manipulate the human body. His specialty is causing bleeding, hence his name. All he has to do it think about something, and it happens to your body."

"You think you can break me with torture?" Jean taunted. "Go ahead. You can try. But don't think I'll tell you shit."

Mastermind was silent for a moment. "Cruor. Split her lip open."

With a suddenness that shocked her, her bottom lip flared with pain and blood ran down her chin. Jean gasped.

"You see, Miss Grey? Remember, he can do anything at all to your body."

"Go to hell," Jean muttered, spitting blood onto his shoes.

The next flash of pain was blinding, and Jean could only scream.

* * *

Wolverine stayed hidden in the cargo hold for a long while, waiting until everything was quiet again. He ducked out of the plane and left the cavernous hangar, first taking note that the Blackbird was parked at the other end of the building. He'd had several hours to stew over his own stupidity at letting Mastermind capture Jean. He should have just jumped out of the goddamn tree and gotten to her first.

Logan pushed his rage aside and focused himself. He could easily get around in Magneto's compound without being seen. He just had to figure out where Jean was.

With a leap like a wildcat, he vaulted over a perimeter fence and ducked through a hidden door. He assumed that Mastermind would try to get information out of her, like the location of Xavier's school. If he knew Jean, they'd have to torture it out of her. She could be the most damned stubborn person he knew.

If they were going to torture her, she would be in one of the clean rooms in the second sub-basement. He popped open a service panel on the wall, and slipped inside, following it until he came to a six-way junction. He slid down the ladder past another junction, and stopped at the second. Silently, he crept into the tunnel, sniffing the air.

He could smell Jean very faintly. She was in one of the rooms on the far end of the building. Picking up speed, he darted through the passage. Her scent grew stronger, but it was masked by the metallic tang of blood.

Logan's blood boiled in his veins, and his vision blurred hazy red with fury. He would fucking rip whoever had even touched her to shreds.

He couldn't hear anyone in the corridor. He pushed a service panel open and slipped out into the stark hallway, leaving the panel slightly open in case he needed to make a quick escape. The clean room was just across the hall from him.

He could hear one set of feet walking around the room. The scent of blood was much stronger, as was the stench of fear. He could hear faint noises of pain in what was unmistakably Jean's voice.

Red rage blinded him.

His claws cut through the steel door like it was made out of butter.

* * *

Jean had never known such pain. It invaded every inch of her mind until she had forgotten who she was. All she knew was that it hurt, hurt, oh god, it hurt. It felt like someone had shoved their hand into her gut and was twisting her insides around.

She was too weak to look up at the shriek of rending metal, but she heard Cruor's shout of surprise. A patter of movement, almost too fast to be human, and then a sharp scream cut through the air.

There was a soft, wet thud, and she could see Cruor's tattooed hand lying limply on the floor.

"Jeannie," a ragged voice whispered, and her weight was suddenly off of her shoulders.

Cold metal slipped between her wrists and the cuffs, and the bindings fell away. She tried to move her arms, but her shoulders screamed in protest, and she dropped her to her knees, retching from the pain.

"Jean, darlin', we've gotta get out of here," the voice whispered again, and she realized with startling clarity that it was Wolverine.

Panic gripped her, and she tried to get away from him, but her legs wouldn't support her.

"Jean, don't struggle. I'm trying to help you," he said desperately, slipping an arm around her waist.

She forced her head up enough to look at him. His uniform was covered in blood. A wave of revulsion crested over her, and she bent and vomited on the floor. The view there wasn't any better. Cruor, or what used to be Cruor, was sprawled on his back, his midsection ripped open, his intestines spilling onto the metal floor. Her head spun and she collapsed.

* * *

Logan caught Jean as she suddenly slumped to the bloody floor and carefully lifted her into his arms, disgusted by what had been done to her. There were tiny cuts on her face, her bottom lip was split and bleeding, and her skin was covered in a thin sheen of blood. Killing the little motherfucker who did this to her made him feel better, but her reaction didn't. He felt like a monster.

He was halfway to the door when it slid open. Mastermind ambled in, looking immensely proud of himself. "Well? Has she broken-- oh my god... Wolverine, what have you done?" he exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks.

Much to Wolverine's annoyance, Magneto was right behind the illusionist. Logan was surprised to see a look of mixed horror and fury on his face. "Mastermind," Magneto thundered, "I sincerely hope that this isn't what it looks like."

Mastermind blanched. "S... sir, I was only trying to get information from her..." he stammered.

Magneto stepped into the room, staring at Jean's unconscious figure. "You knew that none of Xavier's disciples were to be harmed. I thought I had drilled that into your thick skull. Obviously, I was wrong," Magneto said.

His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and Mastermind suddenly clutched his temples, moaning in pain. A second later, he dropped to the floor, motionless.

Magneto turned his gaze onto Wolverine. "What are you doing here? Have you completed your mission?" he asked sharply.

Logan tightened his arms around Jean. "You can shove your goddamn mission up your ass, Magneto. If you want Xavier dead, you're gonna have to do it yourself," he snarled.

Magneto stared at him, surprise evident on his face. "Wolverine, you realize that I could kill you where you stand," he said silkily.

"Not before I put my claws through your head."

"Well, it would seem we are at an impasse. Believe me, I would never have seen the girl harmed. Is that why you've suddenly turned against me?"

"Maybe I just realized I'm on the wrong side," Wolverine said. "I'm taking Jean, and I'm getting out of here."

Wolverine watched Cyclops burst through the doorway. "Magneto, something strange is showing up on the radar-- Jean?" he said, sounding as if he didn't believe that it was really her, bloody and unconscious in Wolverine's arms.

"And you're teamed up with the sick fucks who did this to her," Wolverine growled. "Now get the hell out of my way."

A piercing klaxon sounded. "Sentinels are attacking the Savage Land. I repeat, Sentinels are attacking the Savage Land. Take cover immediately," a disembodied voice announced.

Wolverine quickly lost himself in the sudden flurry of motion. He slipped out of the clean room, silent as death, got out of the compound, and back to the Blackbird without really knowing how he did it. He strapped Jean into the co-pilot's seat, and then buckled himself in.

When the jet lifted off of the ground, he couldn't help gaping in horror at what was happening below him. The whole of the Savage Land seemed to be on fire, and Sentinels were blasting people as they ran from the burning buildings.

He had just enough fuel left to make it back.

* * *

Several Hours Later; Xavier Institute

* * *

"Open up, Charlie, 'less you want me to crash this thing into your greenhouse."

Colossus stared at the monitor in shock. "Wolverine?" he asked.

"Who the hell else? I've got thirty seconds of fuel left, and Jean's hurt bad. Open the hangar, now."

Piotr punched the button and watched the hangar ceiling open up. The sleek black jet slid smoothly inside. He was on the intercom to the Professor before the Blackbird had even touched down.

/All X-Men, report to the hangar immediately./

* * *

Within half an hour, Jean was in the Medlab, and Logan had been shooed away with the threat of getting fried with Storm's lightning. He settled for taking a quick shower before heading back down to the Lab. There was no way in hell he was going to leave Jean's side.

He watched the blood and gore spiral down the drain, feeling sick.

He stuffed his bloody uniform down one of the shafts to the incinerator.

When he got back down to the Medlab, Henry was puttering around on a pair of crutches. "Oh, we've just taken her to the infirmary..." Hank said.

Logan didn't stay to listen to him. He ran down the corridor and burst into the infirmary, startling Storm. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" she asked irritably.

"How is she?" he asked, ignoring Storm.

Xavier crossed his hands in his lap. "She will be fine. She lost quite bit of blood, but we've infused her. She just needs rest now. Storm, why don't you go inform the others?" he said pointedly.

Frowning, Ororo left the infirmary. Xavier pulled a curtain back, and Logan saw Jean lying on one of the beds, looking frail and ashen. Logan swallowed hard, and pulled a chair to her bedside.

"That was a brave thing you did," Xavier said conversationally. "You must feel great loyalty to her to have followed her into the Savage Land."

"How did you know where she was?" Logan asked, taking one of her small hands in his.

"I used Cerebro. Fortunately, I could also sense you en route. None of the other X-Men would have been able to infiltrate the Savage Land to save her."

"I guess it's a good thing I was around, huh," Logan replied darkly.

"Yes, it was. You see, Jean is my closest protegé. I have been training her to take over the school in case anything were to happen to me. She's a very powerful young woman, one that I cannot lose."

Logan glared at him. "That because she's so integral to your plans?" he snapped.

Xavier gave him a patient smile. "I understand that you're still on edge. And no, that's not the only reason. Jean is also my friend, no matter how young she is. You see, Logan, it's difficult to find someone who can understand what it is like to hear voices in your head. I helped Jean overcome her fears concerning her telepathy, and we've developed a friendship out of mutual respect. Losing her would break my heart.

"I thank you, Logan, for risking what you did to save her."

Wolverine was surprised at the emotion in Xavier's normally detached tone. "You're welcome," he replied gruffly.

"Logan, I know that you care very much for Jean. When she wakes up, you must understand that she's still very confused about you. Don't expect too much from her. I have accepted the fact that though you came here to kill me, you have changed your mind."

Logan was suddenly embarrassed. "I... I'm sorry about that, Charlie," he stammered.

Xavier waved a hand. "I told you, I have accepted it. I know that you hold no ill will for me, and I bear none toward you. Let us say that we are on the same page now, and forget about it."

Logan nodded curtly. "Don't expect me to apologize to you again. It ain't a habit of mine."

He was shocked when the professor burst into laughter.

* * *

Logan had decided that it would be best if he wasn't there when Jean woke up, and the Professor agreed. The look of horror on Jean's face when she'd seen him in the clean room made him feel ill. She had to think that he was a monster. He tucked tail and hid when she started to come around.

Jean opened her eyes, immediately squinting. "Where am I?" she mumbled, trying to sit up.

Professor Xavier shook his head. "Lie back down, Jean. You're in the infirmary. Do you remember what happened?" he asked.

Jean rubbed her eyes gingerly. Her head felt like it might explode at the slightest sound. Much to her dismay, she remembered everything clearly. She nodded and began telling the story.

The professor nodded decisively. "It correlates with Wolverine's version of events."

Jean's head snapped up, causing a wave of blinding pain to hit her. "Ouch... he's still here?" she asked.

Behind one of the curtains, Logan froze. "Yes, he is," Professor Xavier replied lightly.

"Why?" she spat out.

Jean's tone turned bitter, and Logan's heart sank. He slipped silently out of the infirmary before Xavier had a chance to answer.


End file.
